Idiocracy

My neighbors "defriended" me on Facebook because they believe that I'm the "mole." It took me a while to notice because I had hidden their comments from my newsfeed.

I have a shocking news alert for them: Facebook is public. What they post, all of their "friends" can see -- including the "friend" they're bashing. No mole required. Crazy, I know.

Old adage: Good fences make good neighbors

Facebook addendum: Heinous public comments make bad neighbors. Own it.

I have also hidden the comments of an ex-coworker who shouts AWESOME in every post -- often myriad times throughout the day. "Just had lunch with my AWESOME wife." "Riding my bike to work on another AWESOME day." I can't stand another AWESOME sighting.

I think I'm becoming cranky.

My Marriott Awaits

From the Marriott Aruba last week to the Marriott Oakland City Center this week. Somehow methinks it'll be a vastly different experience. Beach vs. conference room. Game room vs. LCD with PowerPoint. Carefree vs. angst-riddled. Playing tag in the pool vs. facilitating a meeting.

Just writing that word, facilitating, makes me want to groan. It sounds dreadful. One of these things is not like the others: swimming, napping, reading, relaxing, laughing, facilitating. Sounds more like gestating or ovulating. In this case, birthing some new business processes.

In other news, my TripAdvisor review of Aruba property has already been posted.

I think it would be fun to be a hotel secret shopper. Maybe in my next life. But for now, baby I was born to facilitate.

One Happy Island

How can a week of total relaxation speed by so quickly? How can swimming for hours in the pool followed by swimming for hours in the ocean (day in/day out) feel like a split second of time?

Conversely, how can sitting at my desk for only a few hours feel like an eternity?

What I liked about Aruba: 1) being with my mom and kids for a week, 2) the ocean was crystal clear and felt like bath water, 3) Oranjestad was clean and colorful, 4) the weather was perfect, perfect, perfect, 5) the entire island felt safe (unlike Jamaica where we were escorted to the airport by armed guards because there was a series of heists by gunpoint earlier that morning), 6) everyone we met was friendly, 7) we enjoyed heaps o' yummy food (i.e., a pro and a con), 8) we stayed at a beautiful resort, 9) there were no obligations and 10) no work!

One woman who worked at the hotel was telling us that she and her husband moved there from the Philippines with their kids ~20 years ago and they love it. She said they lived a casual lifestyle with no need to get caught up in the rat race. Sounds too good to be true.

On the other hand, we had this interesting little exchange one night while being seated at an outdoor restaurant on the beach. A bleached blonde with snake tattoo and faded, orange cotton mini-dress from J.C. Penney circa 1984 turned to greet us.

Blondie: Where are you from?
Me: Rochester, NY. You?
Blondie: I'm from Aruba and my friend here is from Holland.
Me: Wow. I don't mean this to sound insulting but you sound very American.
Blondie (sneering at me): First off, that IS insulting. Secondarily, I'm originally from Ohio.
Me: Oh. How long have you been here?
Blondie: Four years and I'm never going back.
Me (suppressing my desire to return the sneer to my new native friend): You must love it here.
Blondie (clearly mistaking my polite response for sheer idiocy): It's the same here as anywhere. You still have to wash your sheets and make your bed in the morning.
Me: I just thought it was a more relaxing lifestyle.
Blondie (looking at me with utter disdain and speaking slowly so my moronic brain could comprehend): Noooooooo. One happy island my ass.

Well alrighty then. Nice to meet you . . . ?

Ah well. Back to life, back to reality. And thanks for a fabulous trip mom!!

Moonbeams in a Jar

Last night our family stretched out on a blanket in the yard and watched for falling stars. Some were brilliant with long-fiery tails; others were vague wisps that briefly illuminated the darkness. I was trying to make a wish but they were too quick for me. It was a tad too cool but otherwise the night just felt right.

It reminded me of a Bing Crosby song my mom used to sing when I was little:

Oh would you like to swing on a star
carry moonbeams home in a jar
and be better off than you are
or would you rather be a fish?

Signing off now, I think, for over a week of sun, fun, hugs and relaxation. Ahhhhhhhhhh.

The Shallowing of America (Myself Included)

Full disclosure: I get my "news" from the Daily Show.

As the daily news across America is losing relevance, advertising revenue is dropping and newspaper closings are accelerating, I can't help but hope that my New York Times, delivered to my door every Sunday, remains viable. So what if I only read the "Style" section? (Sad but true. And somewhat ironic given what I'm wearing right now . . . )

In a world more focused on sound bytes, I find it interesting that Ashton Kutcher has over 3 million followers on Twitter compared to CNN at over 2.5 million. That's 500K more people, larger than the population of the greater Rochester metropolitan area, that would rather tune in to read a line item about Ashton playing skee-ball with Jimmy Fallon than view boring news updates such as "police search pharmacy in Michael Jackson probe." (As an aside, Son #2 and I played skee-ball just last week. It's my favorite arcade game. And Son #2 is just as cute and funny as Jimmy Fallon. Well, close. Pretty sure I can kick both their butts.)

At 2 million followers, even our nation's favorite mogul, Oprah, has a smaller Twitter audience than Ashton.

So what gives? What is it about this dude that makes over 3M people want to tune into his life every moment of the day? Inquiring minds wanna know. (But not enough to follow him.)

Here Comes Your Band

The Pixies, one of my favorite bands of all time, embarked recently on a world tour to play their "best of" album, Doolittle, in its entirety. I love this because Doolittle isn't an after-the-fact compilation of greatest hits but, in my humble and unschooled opinion, simply one of the best CDs ever released. So I've booked my flights to NYC for November; now I have to pray that I get a ticket to their Monday night show the minute they go on sale this Friday. Anyone wanna join me?

In a similar vein, I just read that Sparks played a show in LA last February containing all of the tracks from their latest album (currently residing in the "where is it now?" file) along with every track from their 1974 work of art: Kimono My House. Seriously. If that ever happens again, or if they play Propaganda from cover to cover, I think my sister and I need to board a plane immediately.

Since I can't find a good video of my favorite Sparks' song, "Moon Over Kentucky" (with the exception of Morrissey covering a less sinister/less interesting version last month in Brixton Academy), I'll post their seminal hit "This Town Ain't Big Enough for the Both of Us." Oh heck, I'll post 'em both. Living large. Now to get them to play somewhere . . . anywhere.

Bright Eyed and Bushy Tailed

After sleeping away much of the weekend, I can reflect more accurately upon the fun things that did happen last week:

1. Went out to dinner at Rocco with my girlfriends Heather and Gretchen -- and ordered grilled octopus salsa verde with a basil gimlet (or two) DELICIOUS
   
2. Went for sushi at lunchtime with my girlfriend Michele -- outdoors in the sunshine -- at California Rollin' 2 YUM
3. Spent a couple of hours at the Pittsford Pub on Thursday night catching up with the old neighborhood gang o' neer-do-wellers (most of whom are now, 30 years later, actually doing well)
4. Came home to a fire pit and relaxation with my next door neighbors while the kids played Jictapus (a tag-like game that they made up and which sounds really funny as they run around in the dark yelling "Jictapus" at each other)
   
5. Took Friday as a vacation day -- yes a vacation day! REST
   
6. Went out for Jamaican food with the hubby to celebrate 16 years of wedded bliss
   
7. Booked a trip with my mom and kids for Aruba next week YES Aruba next week -- a completely undeserved, over-the-top luxury
8. Started reading another fabulous book, Unaccustomed Earth, courtesy of my mom (who also gave me the Guernsey book that I loved) THANKS MOM
   
9. Rode bikes and played a family game of wiffle ball followed the next day by pitching a neighborhood game of wiffle ball
   
10. Did my wash! Amen amen.

Now it's back to work.

But the Jamaican meal, at Island Fresh Cuisine, was fresh, spicy and delicious. In my recently adopted quest to abandon the ordinary, I ordered curried goat which was absolutely to-die-for. (Actually, the goat did sacrifice his life for my meal. Sad.) The hubby had the escovitch fish which was good but not nearly as fantabulous as mine (sucker). We also shared a beef patty which was similar in nature to a hot empanada, fried plantains and complementary "festival sticks" which were tiny, fresh rolls lightly seasoned with cinnamon and nutmeg, I think. Sadly, the place is a) a bit pricey at $100 for two meals/drinks, b) somewhat dark as we were seated under a festive umbrella indoors, c) slow enough that I could have taken a nap at the table between courses and d) located in an otherwise deserted strip mall by the RIT campus which, being summer, was pretty much empty.

I hope they do well. In the kid-friendly, Crapplebees world in which we live, interesting meals are few and far between these days!

Joseph Revisited

Today, my church began a series on Joseph -- one of many stories in the Bible that I love. As my pastor was talking about different obstacles that can trip us up (e.g., from sexual indiscretion to imprisonment), he stated that oftentimes difficulties arise from taking misguided advice from people we trust. Not that they're purposefully trying to steer us in the wrong direction necessarily but they have their world views, inherent fears and vantage points, as well.

It occurred to me that I suffer most from my own internal critic. My entire life I have been surrounded by parents and friends who told me that I could accomplish anything that I wanted. I was raised in a middle class family, went to good schools, traveled a fair amount as a child and didn't lack anything. Unlike Joseph, I've basically been handed everything in life and yet still I struggle. Is this the inevitable outcome of a privileged life?

Am I doing what I'm supposed to be doing? Am I where I'm supposed to be? I haven't had a burning bush, a vision, a dream or an audible voice steering me in the right direction but there have been times when I've been awash in the pure awareness and confidence that God is present and taking care of me. Now is not one of those times.

Lately, I struggle with feeling overlooked. While I know without a shadow of a doubt that this thought cannot be true, I still take colossal amounts of time to feel sorry for myself. I try to remind myself that I am abundantly blessed. I have a job that pays well, a great family, my health and am surrounded by people who love me. But I still go back to, "Is this it?" or is there a greater plan for me? Then I'll read a book about the Holocaust and feel so unbelievably self-absorbed. I have soooo much -- why am I grousing?

Last Wednesday, I went to a funeral for the mother of one of my bible study girlfriends. During the eulogy, Kim talked about how her mom never once complained. Even when her health was failing and they couldn't figure out what was wrong, she kept repeating, "God has been good to me." As I headed back to the office after the service, I stopped for a few minutes in Durand Eastman Park to watch the waves roll in and pray.

Please let me, who has so much, be thankful for all of my blessings. And help me to firmly believe, and rest in the fact that, God cares so much about me that he knows every possible thought, dream and desire of my soul.

"Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." Luke 12:7

Sanity by Way of Serenity

"Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest." --Mark 6:31

I need to reconnect with God. I need a prayer retreat. Better yet, I need to spend a couple days immersed in complete and utter silence with just my Bible and a beach. No food. No friends. No worries.

I need to un-jumble my brain and listen.

"Be still and know that I am God." --Psalm 46:10

As Facebook Turns

A couple of my neighbors are certifiably crazy and it's getting out of control.

Until recently, the young couple who live in the cape on the corner were the poster children for minor oddities. When they first moved in, we had a few families from the hood over for dinner. With the guys in the other room, the wife let all of the women know that she married beneath her. She barely knew us but needed to share how a) wealthy her parents are, b) she was on the beauty pageant circuit as a child (this by way of explanation re: her current weight issues -- making up for her lost childhood), and c) awesome her husband is in bed (which is why she married him -- she claims he's not very bright). Not really what we need to know about her beau hunk of a man. Especially a year later when she was bragging about how they broke their headboard.

Over the past couple of years, she has informed us that they were moving to another house in town, to Long Island, to Pennsylvania, to Ohio, to Florida, etc. Our next door neighbor, Peter, does a fabulous impression of her mind-changing tactics by mimicking the train board updates at Penn Station.

This same woman got liposuction and a boob job while undertaking fertility treatments. Just when she had the fat sucked out of her, she became pregnant. Nice investment.

Most recently, she spent days with an architect redesigning their home and then immediately put an offer on another home one street over. In the course of a few short weeks, after selling their home and renovating their new home, she has been posting pictures of her new home and updated kitchen on Facebook.

In response, two other women on my street have been publicly deriding her by posting nasty comments and obnoxious status updates. What makes grown women -- one in her early 30s and the other in her mid-40s -- think it's okay to bully someone? Can they possibly feel good about themselves after doing so? It's heartwrenching to watch; no one deserves to be treated so poorly especially by "friends."

I don't know the back story on why their friendship ended. Nor do I care. I only know that after she finally de-friended them on Facebook, one allegedly sent her a threatening email. This couple then called the cops from their beach house in Long Beach Island, NJ and placed a follow-up call to my hubby to watch their now vacant house while they were away for the summer. Sure enough, I passed a squad car in front of their house yesterday morning.

What started with a harmless, and otherwise friendly, neighbor who kept us entertained with her peculiar antics has turned downright vicious.

The only thing that could make this drama complete is if Alexis Carrington moves into their home. We need to add some knock-down-drag-out catfights to the mix around here before we get too comfortable. Maybe a murder mystery to top things off.

Suburban intrigue unfolding on the Real Housewives of Podunk.

Wilderness Light

Last night, my neighbor Liz and I, along with our kids, went "camping" in her backyard in a makeshift attempt to pretend we were on vacation. It was a beautiful night. Bonfire. Tea lights. Pitcher of sangria. Outdoor screening of Inspector Gadget. The kids put on a midnight dance performance, with multicolored glow sticks, that rivaled the Blue Man Group. (Or maybe that was the vino talking.)

At some point in the wee morning hours, it began to rain. Second only to a backdrop of waves crashing on the shore, awakening to the sound of raindrops tapping a tent cover is really calming.

I need a real vacation right about now. And a nap.